The Last Resistance
by Hannahkins
Summary: Set after the sixth book. Harry has gone off to retrieve and destroy Voldemort's horcruxs, but what of those who are left behind? For them, the war cannot wait for The Boy Who Lived. RemusTonks, more forthcoming.


- CHAPTER ONE -

Supper at Grimmauld Place

It was raining outside 12 Grimmauld Place. The dark, miserable downpour made the inside of the derelict old house even damper than usual. The fireplace was crackling bright orange in the grate, but the little warmth it gave off was offset by the musk of cooking mildew. In the kitchen, the soothing clang of pots and cutlery was belying, as Molly Weasley bustled madly about, preparing supper.

"Fleur, dear, would you pass me the parsley?"

A young woman was staring through a grimy window to the bleak outside. The fall of the rain was hypnotising, lulling, but her gaze was alert. She strained her eyes through the streaks of rain. The spoon her wand had been orchestrating was leaning closer and closer to the stew it was stirring. It was inches from falling in.

"Fleur?"

Fleur started. The spoon jumped back upright and sheepishly recommenced its circles.

"Pardon?" A gentle French accent embroidered her speech.

Mrs. Weasley looked up at her new daughter-in-law. Fleur Delacour, now Weasley, was as wonderful a daughter-in-law as a woman could hope for. Although, this opinion was comparatively recent. Only last year, Mrs. Weasley had been of the opinion that Fleur was a spoiled, selfish, empty-headed, shallow girl who's one – minor – saving quality was her undeniable good looks. Fleur was beautiful, the most beautiful girl Mrs. Weasley had ever seen, with silvery hair and a pale goddess complexion. Her very presence in a room was captivating. But, that wasn't good enough to marry her son! Nothing in the world would have changed Mrs. Weasley's mind…but one thing. As far as she was concerned, there was only one requirement she would insist upon in the spouse of her children. It was a foolish conclusion to think that meeting Mrs. Weasley's one requirement was simple. On the contrary, it was very complicated. But Fleur had shown she had it: unconditional love for Bill Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley allowed herself a precious moment to reflect on just how much her feelings towards Fleur had changed. "The parsley, Fleur?"

"Ah, _oui_, Molly." Fleur reached into the cupboard above her head.

Suddenly, she shrieked and jumped back, clutching the hand that had been in the cupboard. Still shrieking, she fled to the other end of the room and leaped onto one of the kitchen chairs. "Bundimun!"

Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes. _Some_ things never changed. "In the cupboard?"

Fleur nodded, petrified, her hair shuddered around her face. Her hands clenched the back of the chair as if she expected something to crawl out of the cupboard and drag her away.

Molly rolled up her sleeves. "How big?"

Fleur babbled incoherently in French, while Mrs. Weasley waited patiently. It didn't take long before Fleur managed to squeeze, "'uge! Enormous! Repulsive!" in between another torrent.

"Right, so about the size of a teacup."

Mrs. Weasley took her wand from the counter. She walked up to the open cupboard. "Lumos." A brilliant light from the tip of her wand illuminated the shadows. "There you are. Still tiny yet, nothing to be afraid of, Fleur. Just a little Bundimun. It's a good thing you found it, or it might have gotten too big to manage on our own."

Fleur trembled worse than before.

"They can be quite the nuisance, Bundimun. If they get big enough, they can rot away the whole house. Of course, _this_ house is probably infested from the rafters to the floorboards with – "

"Just kill it, already!" Fleur screamed, a note of hysteria rising in her voice.

"Fleur, its only a - "

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Unheard over Fleur's wild screams, was a series of squelching footsteps. A wet figure stepped through the doorway and stopped. She pulled down her hood.

"Kill!"

"Er…is this a bad time?"

Mrs. Weasley turned around, "Tonks! Not at all, not in the least. Look at you, you're sopping wet."

"It's raining outside, Mrs. Weasley," Tonks replied.

"KILL!"

"No, I mean you're getting the floor all wet, and I just mopped this morning."

"Oh, sorry! Here, let me." Tonks waved her wand and the puddle of water around her feet disappeared. Another wave and hot air was blowing from her wand. She shuffled up to the fire and started drying herself.

"KILL! KILL!"

"Yes, Fleur, I'm getting there!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"What's her problem?" Tonks jerked her head towards Fleur, who was now jumping on her chair in a frenzy.

Mrs. Weasley had returned to the cupboard. "It's just a little Bundimun. Nothing at all, but you'd think it was a Chimaera the way she's carrying on…For goodness sake, Fleur!" Mrs. Weasley yelled over her shoulder. She jabbed her wand into the cupboard. "Scourgify! Oh!" Mrs. Weasley pulled away, as something dark green and many-legged scuttled out.

Fleur's screams shattered to a deafening pitch. Tonks winced. She raised her hands to plug her ears, but her elbow knocked over a pot, with a wilted little plant weighed down with brown pods, resting on the mantle. It smashed on the stone floor, cascading dirt and pieces of terra cotta everywhere.

"Sorry!"

Mrs. Weasley didn't notice. The Bundimun was scuttling across the countertop. "Scourgify!"

The Bundimun scurried out of the way just in time, while Mrs. Weasley's spell ricocheted off the backsplash and hit one of the simmering pots.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley wailed, as the boiled potatoes vanished, and the pot began to scrub itself clean. "You little bugger! That was supper!" Mrs. Weasley's face was red. "Scourgify!"

Her spell shot straight for the wriggling green mass, by now hiding behind the flour canister, but she missed again. The flour disappeared, and the canister flung itself into a sink of soapy water.

With no where left to hide, Mrs. Weasley closed in for the kill. A malicious gleam to her eye, she raised her wand…The Bundimun turned around. A thick cloud of green gas clouded towards Mrs. Weasley. She sputtered and coughed, stumbling backwards, her face wrinkled. "Oh, oh my, that is strong!" She batted a hand back and forth to try to clean the air. "Oh, goodness!"

"KILL!"

A series of pops burst from the fireplace.

Tonks leaped out of the way. "Mrs. Weasley, your plant, it's exploding!"

"It's the pods. Get it away from the fire, Tonks!"

"KILL!"

"Right, I – oops! Oh, not good…" A pod had exploded next to Tonks and set her boot on fire. "Oh…Erm…Ah…" She tried to beat it out, but the flame grew, feeding off the leather.

"KILL!"

"Scourgify!" The Bundimun released a phlegmy croak, as it burst into a thick slime that erupted across the room.

It flew across the kitchen and doused the exploding pods by the fireplace. A large amount splattered against Fleur's face.

"KI – " She choked on her words and stared in horror at her face. For a second, she stood quiet still, then her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she collapsed sideways onto the kitchen table. Her head landed in a cushioning platter of steamed vegetables.

"What the blazes is going on in here?" Mr. Weasley stormed into the kitchen, a Muggle curling iron brandished in his fist.

His eyes dragged from Fleur's limp form on the table to Tonks, who had only just remembered she was holding a wand and had finally managed to put out the flames. His wife, who had taken the brunt force of the Bundimun extermination, wiped an inch of green Bundimun guts from her face.

Mr. Weasley's own face took on a look of firm resignation, as he decided he didn't really want an answer.

"Supper will be a bit late tonight, Arthur."

Mr. Weasley turned to leave but jerked to a halt. He had just stepped in something gooey and green.

Two hours later, supper was cold. Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, a now conscious Fleur, and Ginny were seated around the table in silence. Ginny had hidden her face behind her long red hair and was fiddling with her fork. Mrs. Weasley kept casting compulsive glances at a peculiar clock resting on the china cabinet. All nine of the Weasleys had a hand with their name on it. They were all stuck pointing towards the words, 'Mortal Peril'. This wasn't unusual for the past two years, ever since Lord Voldemort had regained his powers. But she was sure, if she focused her eyes until the edge of her vision were slightly blurred, that the hands marked 'Charlie' and 'Bill' were vibrating.

Tonks coughed.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. His voice was low, "Molly, I think it's time we informed the rest of the Order. It's been two hours, and we haven't heard a thing."

Fleur, who was normally pale, went white.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head furiously. "No, they'll be here!" She wrung the napkin in her hands with white knuckles. "Arthur, they're coming. They're just late."

"Molly – "

"No, Arthur!" She yelled, and everyone jumped. "They're coming back! They – They're – " She dissolved into tears. Mrs. Weasley buried her face in the napkin and rocked back and forth, while heaving sobs shook her body. "They're coming! They have to be!"

Mr. Weasley looked exhausted, as he rose from his seat. The wooden legs scraped against the stone. He squared his shoulders. "Ginny, look after your mother. I need to contact the Order and tell them – They must be notified…" His hands were balled into tortured fists, as he left the room.

Ginny tucked her hair behind her ears. She went to her mother and put a shy hand on her jerking shoulder. "Mum?" She bit her lip. "Mum, it's going to be alright." She sounded as though she were trying to convince herself, too. "They're fine." Tears were leaking out of her eyes and sliding down her cheeks, but her voice was strong. "It's going to be okay."

Mrs. Weasley reached for her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. She pulled Ginny to her heart and held her close and safe. Ginny hugged her mum and they held onto each other; Mrs. Weasley's anguish audible and Ginny's silent.

Fleur was watching Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. She looked very alone at the far end of the big table. She looked as though she would like to have someone hold her.

Tonks couldn't move. She couldn't breath, she couldn't swallow, she couldn't see. All she knew was that she was cold. Freezing.

Remus hadn't come back.

Time passed, no one knew how much. Nothing had changed to make them notice. Mr. Weasley still had not returned from where ever he had gone.

Something pulled Tonks out of the pit she had fallen into. Something registered on the border of her consciousness. At first, she wasn't sure what it was, wasn't even certain she had heard anything at all. But, what if…

She gripped the table and stood on shaking legs. She said nothing, as she left the kitchen and climbed the short row of stairs to the front entrance. There was no light, just the occasional flash of lightening through the sooty windows. She froze at the foot of the stairs, as thunder roared around her.

The entrance seemed surreal. Mrs. Black was asleep behind her curtain, snoring too loudly. The troll's leg umbrella stand seemed too big. The stairs to the upper levels seemed too far. The room seemed too dark. It was an impossibly long walk to the door.

The silver doorknob was cold, nearly as cold as she was. Not brave enough to hope, Tonks opened the door.

Rain blasted through the door and soaked her front. Lightening flared followed by the bang of thunder.

He was there.

A soaked, black form was thrown across the front steps.

Tonks fell to her knees. Her hand was shuddering violently; she couldn't grasp the hood… Her fingers closed around an edge of icy fabric. She pulled back the hood.

"Oh God, Remus!" Tonks was able to speak again. She flung herself onto his chest. He was so cold! "Remus, please!" Tonks wailed. She had pulled his head onto her lap. Her tears were splashing onto his closed face, as she bent over him. "Remus!" She pressed her forehead to his and cried out the pieces of her heart of gasps. Her hands were on his face, still familiar in death, then through his hair, then around him.

Lightening burned in the sky.

"No, no, no…" Her lips brushed against his. Her breath was the only warmth.

There was a hand on her face.

She opened her eyes.

"Remus!" She took his hand in both of hers, as his eyes fluttered open.

"Tonks…"

"You're alive. You're alive!" Tonks gasped, she couldn't think. She couldn't form a thought. "You're hurt. I have to save you. I can't loose you! I can't!" She grabbed him in her arms, and he leaned against her. So weak! She folded herself around him, like holding a large child. "I can't loose you!" Tonks sobbed. "Don't die. Remus, don't die. Please!"

There was light coming through the doorway. Someone was pulling him away from her.

"No! Remus! No!" She couldn't see through the rain and tears in her eyes. Someone had her by the arms. They were taking her Remus away from her. "Remus!" Tonks fought; screaming, clawing, kicking.

"Tonks, let him go! He needs medical attention." Tonks couldn't recognise the voice. They were taking her away from Remus!

"Tonks, please." It was Mr. Weasley.

The world snapped back into focus. Mr. Weasley had pried her away from Remus and dragged her back inside. Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were bent over the body outside. Ginny was standing on the edge of her vision in the shadows, too scared to move.

"We have to hurry," Mrs. Weasley's was still crying, but her tone was iron. She conjured a stretcher, and Fleur helped move Remus's still body on top. They whisked him upstairs. Mrs. Weasley was still giving orders.

"Hot water…Hemlock and henbane…Don't just stand there, Ginny, contact St. Mungo's!" Mrs. Weasley commanded through her tears. Ginny didn't move. "Arthur!"

"I'm on it."

The front door was left open; the rain still whipped inside by the wind. Ginny had disappeared.

Tonks was aware of her robes sticking to her, plastered against her skin from the rain. Droplets of water were falling to her shoulders from hair that was no longer bubblegum pink


End file.
